Soft Smile Project
by Davan
Summary: A collection of unrelated fics that revolve around Hinamori Momo and the people around her - some HitsuHina.
1. Prompt: 02 Cold

**A/N:** Ha see! I am not dead. I have however graduated with a degree and am buried neck deep in job hunting.

I have started working on a little fifty scenes writing challenge – so this is the first of the little entries I will be posting up. It is similar to the character study that I am still working on, but quite different.

_Prompt 02 - Cold_

Hinamori had never liked the cold. It had never been her element, though she was not naive enough to think that it was just her own personal disquiet with it that affected her patterns when it came to the weather. Tobiume had quite a bit to say on the matter as well when she got riled up. She tightened her shawl around her shoulders and reached up to blow on her hands. Her breathe was visible in the cold air and she glanced at Hitsugaya who was training – again. It had been a few weeks since he had returned from the living world and she hadn't quite gotten the courage to ask him too many questions about what was going on. The Shinigami who had been sent out had all come home and Renji, who she would have felt the most comfortable questioning had disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. Kira and Shuuhei, the only other people she felt she could talk with about this with had their own trials at the moment and she was loath to cause them any more worry.

That left Hitsugaya or Matsumoto and after their last disastrous conversation she hadn't quite worked up the nerve to talk to him. She couldn't make herself approach Matsumoto either; if she was going to talk to her she needed to get over her hesitation and just go talk to him. Then if she couldn't get any answers, then she would stalk Matsumoto. She would tell him whatever they discussed anyway.

Only she hadn't quite gotten to that point yet.

Instead she found herself out here on a rooftop, watching him train from a safe distance and ignoring the cold as best she could. It was, she decided, somewhat refreshing. Mostly though she was just cold, the only reason that her teeth weren't chattering was the fact that she was cheating for all she was worth with some low level kidou. Captain Unohana wouldn't necessarily yell at her if she managed to get chilled, but she the gentle tone and quiet discussion that would result from it was worse. It was more than just disappointing her. It was like she had personally let the kind fourth division captain down all by herself.

She briskly rubbed at her shoulders and shook her head at Toushirou. He had to be making it colder; she didn't know why he was pushing himself so hard. Wished she was brave enough to go and ask him.

She sighed and stood quietly. The last time she had been out here, in the cold, watching the comings and goings of Soul Society. Captain Aizen had been with her and that was the root of all her problems. Captain Aizen… she sighed and glanced at the stars, always clearer when the summer haze disappeared from the sky. Maybe that was why Hitsugaya liked it so much; her lips quirked up a bit at the thought. Knowing him he just liked the cold, didn't pay much attention to how it affected the things around him.

Maybe… maybe tomorrow she would be able to ask him.


	2. Prompt: 27 Dying

Title: Dying  
Word Count: 803

She remembered what the cool steel of Aizen's sword had felt like as it slid through the flesh and muscles in her chest. She really didn't like to think about it all that much. Because of that she had refused to talk to anyone about it since she had woken from the coma that his sword had put her into – but she remembered.

She hadn't expected it, but she rather thought that everyone knew that by now. She hadn't paid attention to the central forty-six all that much. Oh she had seen the bodies, smelled the decay and that strange tang of old blood – had known instantly what had happened. Gin had killed them all.

Only it had been more than that hadn't it? Her fingers moved upwards to press against the new scar there that would eventually lighten and fade into the same pale color as her skin. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to. She glanced up at the stars twinkling in the distance and sighed softly. Captain Aizen, how long had she followed him? How long had she trusted him? It had been her goal – her dream – from the time she first caught sight of him until she reached vice-captaincy to serve him, guard his back, and earn his regard. Instead she ended up with his sword in her chest while she had stared up at him with nothing short of stunned disbelief.

She had been so _happy_ to see that he was alive. She hadn't thought past it.

She didn't know how she hadn't died. Knew it was thanks to Hitsugaya and Unohana. Had known as soon as he had shoved his sword into her and then just cruelly pulled it out that she was going to die. She had fallen, almost in a daze, with Tobiume shrieking in her ears, unable to do anything but lay there. Her blood being pushed out of her body with each beat of her treacherous heart. She vaguely remembered counting each breath that had left her body. She had known one of them would be her last and she had been determined to try to hold on. She couldn't remember if it had been the pain or the shock that had caused her to black out, but she didn't remember anything past that.

Later… much later she had been told about Hitsugaya and she had been forced to wonder if it hadn't been his ice that had saved them both. The cold slowing their blood flow while they lay on the floor surrounded by the blood soaked ice that his Bankai had produced. She didn't know if she was grateful to him and Unohana or not. She liked to think she was.

She didn't know if she wanted to believe the worst of her beloved captain or not either… it wasn't that she didn't understand that he was there for more reasons than she could possibly understand. In Hueco Mundo, on the other side of the stars, just out of reach, like the moon was out of reach to all the mere mortals in their world. Only she was no mortal and she had not been a mere person for so long that sometimes she wished fervently for the small cabin that she and Hitsugaya had grown up in. Only she was to set in her ways, to stubborn, to go back there without him… and was too afraid to ask.

It would be so much simpler if Gin had been the reason this had started. She could feel for Matsumoto then. She could wallow in pity for someone other than herself. Then she would be able to tell the older woman that her heart went out to her and that she would do anything she could for her, but… she couldn't. She _knew_ somewhere on the outskirts of her reach that it wasn't just Gin, she just didn't want to believe it. She could ignore it, fight it, deny it every day until the day she finally left this life, but she rather doubted it would change to many things.

No matter how hard she wished to forget it, the look in Hitsugaya's eyes when she had asked him to save Aizen… the betrayal that had flashed across his face so quickly that she had thought she was imaging it. She ducked her head and let the tears that had been building drip down her cheeks and onto her uniform.

She just wished she knew where she stood. Then maybe she could make sense of it all… maybe then she could stop yearning for watermelon seeds and the kind gentle words of the old woman who had been so kind to them. Maybe… maybe then she could forget how it felt to be dying.

Maybe she could forgive herself to.


	3. Prompt: 46 Medication

Momo wasn't particularly fond of all the time she had spent in the fourth division. She liked the fourth division itself. Captain Unohana was a kind and gentle captain and it was reflected in her division, but if she was honest with herself it was the kind and gentle spirit of the fourth division that had her clamoring to get out from behind its walls. It was painful.

There were a lot of different tactics that could be found in the fourth division when it came to taking care of the sick and injured. Each member of the division knew the human body and they took healing the sick and injured _seriously_. After the betrayal she had found a new appreciation for the quiet and gentle air in the division's headquarters. She also… itched.

She had tried to hide this particular reaction. It wasn't the fourth's manner of doing things that had her so unsettled; it was just that the gentle smiles and soft words of its members and captains had her longing for her own Captain and that was a door best left shut for as long as possible. Hitsugaya's and Captain Yamamoto's reactions were all the evidence of that she needed. They didn't believe her. She didn't know what to believe herself.

Unohana (for all her efforts of hiding this reaction) had recommended several of her Shinigami for her to talk to. Giving her a list of people who were qualified to discuss this with her as well should she feel more comfortable talking to one of them. And even though Vice-Captain Koutetsu's name had been on there she just couldn't do it. She wasn't sure if she would ever be ready to talk about it. She could barely whisper the words to herself at night when she _knew_ that she was alone and safe. Talking to someone else, to admit her own weakness, and to the stain she knew she would never be able to scrub off? She was not that strong.

She found very little comfort in the knowledge that she wasn't the only weak one.

Shuuhei had found comfort in talking with Captain Komamura. She was glad for him and the sight of them sitting and talking in the evenings had brought was both comforting and painful. If Shuuhei could find comfort in another captains presence why couldn't she?

It had been that thought that had sent her seeking Kira. Kira who had followed Gin as blindly as she had followed Aizen. She was not the only pawn who had been used against those they cared for. He had sought her out just once to apologize for his part in the whole thing. Only then she had been still been weak and tired and hadn't been able to think past the mind numbing exhaustion.

Still though, it was Kira and he was going through the same thing that she was.

She had hunted for him for an hour, content to simply walk around the third's compound instead of searching for his reiatsu. It had taken longer but it gave her focus and she had been desperate for anything that gave her focus. She had found him on the third's practice field, going through the steps that they had practiced so many times as students in the shinigami academy. It had been better then, Renji on her left and Kira on her right. They hadn't been alone either.

She spent a few moments watching him wistfully. There wasn't a whole lot she wouldn't have given up to just go back to that time for one minute. Just one sunny afternoon on a field, sweating and training. They had been close then and she missed that. She missed a lot of things that had come and gone since she had entered the fifth division. Strange how she hadn't noticed before Aizen had left her here.

It hadn't taken her long to fall into step beside him, Tobiume firmly grasped in her hands. Whatever it was – sparing, venting, fighting - it had been therapeutic. She wasn't afraid of hurting Kira, she knew his fighting style and so long as he kept his sword's shika sealed they could battle each other fairly evenly. His height and weight outmatched hers but their kidou was almost even and she was quick.

They were both frustrated, both hurting, and neither were quite sure what would be considered an honest outlet to their pain or not. She didn't bother trying to hold back, hitting hard, fast, and often. It wasn't about style, grace, or committing anything to their muscles memory. It was an outlet and it was one she grasped as tightly as her grip on Tobiume. She hit, blocked, and threw whatever she thought of at him until her hands hurt from the force of the blows and her reiatsu waned from the constant use.

Still though, he watched her with the single minded determination and she couldn't help but wonder if he had plastered Gin's face over the top of her own. She couldn't help but put Aizen's over the top of his. It wasn't until they were both sweating and shaking, almost to tired to stand, that they called it quits.

The settled on the roof of a nearby building, letting the cool night air wash over them. She flopped backwards and stared at the stars, almost to tired to even think. She had no idea how long they lay there, breathing hard and listening to the silence.

"Do you think about it?" She had expected one of them to talk at some point. She had come looking for Kira because… well she had almost hoped that he would start the conversation. Maybe if he did she could answer. If someone else admitted to needing someone else to talk she could get over the hang up that seemed to be running her life right then.

She nodded, fingers curling around the hilt of Tobiume again. "Every day," she admitted. Sometimes she even dreamed that it was all just a cruel sick joke. Those were the nice dreams. The ones were her captain was waiting for her in the morning, a cup of hot tea on his desk and his ever present smile in place. The others were the ones where she woke panting and shaking in a cold sweat from the feel of Captain Aizen's sword slipping through her again and again. Those were the bad ones. The ones were she found even her conviction that Gin was behind the whole thing, was the real perpetrator, slowly crumbling.

"Do you think there was something we could have done?" She broke the silence and he tensed just a bit beside her. She flinched to. That was the question that haunted her. Right along there with wanting to ask him what he had seen in his captain, but that wasn't fair to either of them. She blamed Gin; she knew he had to blame Captain Aizen and she had to force down her temper at the thought. To long they had been loyal to their captains to have… this happen to them. It was a cruel cycle they could trap themselves in so quickly. It was just better to keep that question firmly tucked away where neither of them could slip.

Questions for Hitsugaya once she was brave enough to ask him as well. To see what ever truths it was that lay behind his eyes as well. She wasn't there yet. Kira, she glanced up anxiously at him, was it.

"I don't know," he said, head tilting back so that he could glance up at the stars. "I like to think we could have."

She nodded. Could they have saved their captains? Aizen from Gin? She glanced at him again hesitantly, Gin from Aizen? He didn't know the answer to her question either. Even if he had wanted to tell her 'no there was nothing we could have done' he didn't know. That was the cruel truth of their reality. They hadn't been raw recruits who could be easily led astray. It had been their captains. _Their _Captains. She sighed and glanced down at her hands.

It was this, the element of uncertainty that kept her awake at night. All the what ifs in the world could be replayed in the dark when you were alone and couldn't sleep. She couldn't change anything, couldn't go back and fix it, but she wanted to. Maybe that was her problem. Her inability to accept what had happened. To comprehend that her Captain really had stuck her like some hollow that had inconvenienced him. She couldn't _believe_ that. If she did… where would she stand?

"I wish we could have." Because if they could have maybe they wouldn't have been tossed around like little puppets and maybe they could have done something to stop whatever it was that had grown between Aizen and Gin… whoever had corrupt the other one. They were gone and that left them both with cruel realities that she wasn't ready to face. No matter how she wanted to fight that, wanted to deny it, beg Captain Aizen to come back and take her with him… that couldn't be changed. She just didn't know what to do about it or how to fix herself. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill.

"I know," Kira said softly, "I know."

Momo offered him a hesitant smile and went back to looking at the stars. Maybe… they could be strong together. Maybe they could make it. At least through tomorrow after that… well each day brought something new.

Maybe in time they could forgive themselves to.


	4. Prompt: 06 Birthmark

_Title:_ Birthmark  
_Word Count:_ 341

She had no idea why the little spot just behind and below her left knee fascinated her. It didn't have any particular shape that she could identify. Sometimes she thought it might be a cat at other times a misshapen pear. The mark itself was just a few shades darker than her natural skin color and no bigger than her small fingers nail. Yet every time she washed her legs she found herself running her finger over the mark curiously. 

A birthmark. That was what Toushirou's grandmother had called it when she had shown it to her once before she had moved to Seireitei to begin her shinigami training. There hadn't been too much information available to her past that, it was nothing evil. It hadn't been a weird sign that she would die tragically young as a child. It was just a mark she had received when she had been born to her mother in the living world. 

An impression on her skin that not even dying had taken away and it captivated her. It reminded her that once she had been something different, had been a child who ran and played and did child like things somewhere else, somewhere strange. Sometimes she had wondered what those games had been, but now that she was older she wasn't as concerned with child like worries. Still though, she found herself glancing at it each day during her bath time. 

Sometimes she thought it was because it reminded her that it wasn't always this life that shaped them into what they were going to become. Sometimes she could even almost recall whatever it was that had happened to her, her little connection to her first life. But the prickling of her memories never stayed more than a moment before they fled back wherever it had gone the first time. 

Her lips quirked and she splashed the soap off her skin that had been sliding down her leg. A birthmark. Just another reminder that not even death changed some things. 

It amused her. 


	5. Prompt: 16 Nocturnal

Momo stared up at the man in front of her and trembled. She wasn't afraid but she couldn't quite explain the way her stomach twisted and her knees threatened to give out under her. She hadn't expected to have him materialize in front of her any time soon… not after she had….

When he smiled, eyes glinting in the moonlight she closed hers just in case she was dreaming. She had come so far and lost so much, but he was there standing in front of her like he had been waiting for this moment.

And maybe he had.

"Tobiume…" she breathed. The wind brushed against his face and what felt like soft petals danced against her skin and she opened her eyes again. He was gone. She tightened her grip on her sword and glanced at the full moon.

"Thank you," she told it, fingers sliding over the hilt of her sword, thumb moving to brush over the flowers there – a time honored tradition. "Thank you."


	6. Prompt: 31 Response

Prompt: 31 - Response  
Word Count: 414

Momo brushed her fingers along the window pane. Rain had long ago cooled the window and the heat from her fingertips was causing small areas to fog over. There was just enough light coming from the outside world for her to make out the trail of her fingertips. It was a beautiful night, cold, wet, dark, and it made her thankful for the heat at her back and the warmth of her bed. Fingers ghosted over her bare shoulder and she shivered, shifting so she could glance over at him. His bed rather, but she wasn't complaining. The warmth of his lips settled against her shoulder and she sighed, shifting a bit more.

"Couldn't sleep?" she reached up and caught his hand, bringing it around so she could kiss his palm.

"You moved."

She smiled, turning so she could brush her hand over his brows, smoothing the furrow there. "I woke up." The snort that followed her pronouncement had her biting her lip. This early, or late, he would huff at her until she distracted him and she was content to listen to the rain. It was a soft patter against his window and for now it was calming. His free hand slipped from her shoulder to her hip and he pulled her to his side.

"All right?"

She turned her head and smiled against his shoulder, nodding. "It s peaceful."

He sighed, chin settled against the top of her head. "You got out of bed to make patterns on the window?"

"It's a nice window." She muttered, glancing up at his profile. She could just make out his jaw line; she ran her fingers over his lips, edges quirking up when he gently bit her.

"Come back to bed."

She pouted, "But what if I want to listen to the rain."Teeth found the shell of her ear and she shivered again.

"I'll make it up to you," he murmured.

"Better," she retorted, shifting so she could bite his jaw. He shifted them both backwards, back into the tangled mess of blankets she had vacated earlier.

"Bossy," he muttered, fingers wrapping around her hips.

"You like it."

He kissed her, mouth firmly slanting across hers. "Stop talking."

"You started it."

Silence. Teeth nipped at her collarbone and she gasped.

"Grumpy," he murmured.

Warm hands curved over her stomach and she sighed relaxing into his touch, fingers moving up his arms to slide over his shoulders. "Later." She agreed.


End file.
